Breathe
by Edmondia Dantes Redux
Summary: They came out of it alive, but not unchanged.
1. Breathe

**_Breathe  
by Edmondia Dantes_**

Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

- - -

It's simple, really, like nothing ever is, and it's a fucking goddamned cliche on top of that, but when the goddamned incense gets up his nose, he can't breathe, and he can't stand it either. He doesn't like things that fuck up his body - least not the ones he can't control - he needs it too much, has to be able to breathe and think and _move_ or else he'll get all tangled up and maybe shot again, and maybe this time the bullet will stick and it'll be so long Orcot, and then what will happen to Chris? Problem is, he's used to it now, and anything else knocks him for a loop and leaves him grouchier than usual and wheezing for air. Maybe it's like drowning, being swallowed up forever, and if you breathe too deep, all you gulp in is water, and all that he ain't is a fish. Come out on dry land, and all of a sudden you've got the creepy feeling that there's scales slicked over your skin, and you'll never blend in with your own kind again. If he squints real hard, he can see it, silvery-pale and glowing, so he tries not to look, because he's not supposed to be able to see what he knows he can't, and he doesn't want to anyway. Most of the time, that's enough to keep it squelched down, and most of the time, it's enough that even no matter how in the thick of things he gets, he can still keep breathing.

He'll never stop breathing until he's dead, and he's not going to let anyone, not even D, take that away from him, even after he's gone. So he takes a deep breath, cuts his ties, and moves out and along, because _you fucking goddamned bastard I nearly died and I'm pissed off and I am going to **get you** and then strangle you to death!_

So he chases, and even if he never catches, he's not drowning yet, and he won't ever be, not the way some hapless enchanted fool would be, caught in some careless immortal's net. When he catches D, he's going to _beat the shit out of him._

_- - -_

Somewhere and somewhen else, D stands utterly still, staring out into the distance, trying to cool his nerves, trying to calm his spirit, and even the pets are no help to him now. He should be pleased to be where he is, he knows, content in his role, content with the way things were supposed to be, the way they will never be again, though they should be. This is normal, this is the way things are, this is his purpose. He closes his eyes, trying to remember all of the things that have become so muddled, now, trying to regain his sense of balance, and takes a deep, shuddering breath of the sweet, perfumed air, familiar as the swish of silk on his skin.

He chokes on it.

- - -


	2. Breathe Redux

**_Breathe Redux  
by Edmondia Dantes_**

Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

AN: For Sam.

- - -

It's actually kind of a pity how much this sucks. He wasn't quite expecting it to - wasn't quite sure how things would work out - but for all that it's good to get out of that smoggy city and back into the heavens again, it does suck, and D won't admit that he's miserable.

"Well duh," Ten-chan says, and sticks his fingers in the batter, dancing back with a triumphant grin before he can bite him. "You're depressed too."

Totetsu eyes him for a minute, contemplating kitsune barbeque, then gives a mental shrug. It's not like D will notice, and even if he did, he wouldn't care. "I'm not depressed," he counters, and gives the batter a taste-test of his own. Needs ginger. "The count's just being stupid."

"We're all getting very fat from your not-depression," Ten-chan drawls, "and you can't eat all of us."

"I could eat some of you," he says, offering him a narrow-eyed glare. "Pass the ginger."

"I'm just saying that it's normal," Ten-chan says, and dutifully forks it over. "And even if you can rationalize it to yourself - 'cause it was the right thing for the kid, I guess - the count's different."

"Being stupid," Totetsu corrects, pressing root to grater with slightly more force than is necessary. "That man isn't worth it."

"The kid too?"

"...there are worse humans," Totetsu says, and presses down harder.

"Well, that's the problem for you both, isn't it?"

"Neither of them should have been involved in the first place."

"Mmm," Ten-chan says, and slides off the counter to peer over his shoulder as he scoops up the shavings and dumps them in the bowl. "But they were."

He ducks before Totetsu can brain him with the spoon. "And now they're not," he growls, "so it doesn't matter."

"Sure it doesn't," Ten-chan says, and Totetsu decides to ignore him and focus on mixing the batter to the perfect texture, delicate and fluffy and spicy-sweet for the baking. "But it can't be undone no matter how far D runs."

"He'll get over it," Totetsu says, and deliberately does not whack him with an errant elbow. "He'd have to eventually anyway."

"...if you said that to him," Ten-chan murmurs, "I think you might make him cry, even though he'd deny it and get pissy and then pretend it never happened."

"He's wasted enough tears on that man."

"You didn't cry for Chris?"

He stares down at the batter. It's perfect. Once the baking's done, the count will smile again, for just a little while.

"No," he says, "Pon-chan cried enough for the both of us."

"Ah," Ten-chan says, and drapes himself over his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch when the bowl smashes against the wall, and Totetsu hates him for that.

"...you gonna clean that up?" Ten-chan wonders after a while, eying the sticky mess that's slowly starting to ooze down the wall. The count will pitch a fit when he sees it.

"No," Totetsu says. "I want it to stain."

"Ah," Ten-chan replies, and his grip tightens just a little.

Totetsu closes his eyes and just breathes.

- - -


End file.
